Accursed Miracle
by MorganRay
Summary: I knew better. Dead things should stay dead. I dealt with the devil, and I was going to burn for it. For Cedric Diggory, death was only the beginning. A deal is struck, a chance for justice, a second life. But is resurrection a miracle or a curse?
1. Resurrection

**Resurrection**

_'I can make you an offer.'_

The woman, which appeared to be no more than a statue cloaked in a billowing, black gown, said in a voice like thunder rolling over a distant valley.

_'How do you know . . .' _

_'That does not matter to you. What does matter to me is how surprised I am that you have already not been claimed. If someone were to have laid a name on you, you would have become part of this world. That will also apply in the land of the flesh. You must acknowledge what they wish to call you.' _

Cedric looked into her yellow, canine eyes. They seemed to be the only part of her that appeared alive.

_'Yes. Send me back.' _

Silence passed between them. How would she do it? How did you bring someone back to life? Cedric felt certain she wanted something from him.

_'Do you want to know?' _

He had been asked. He replied, without a second thought, _'Just do it.' _

She beckoned him forward. As he approached, he felt more uncertain of his decision, and if he had a beating heart, he felt certain it would have been hammering away right now.

He took her hand.

A thousand volts of lightning seemed to rip through his body. For a moment, he was afraid he would become something like her; an unfeeling statue, with silver as his bones and precious metals as his organs. That's all she was. Only her yellow eyes were alive.

She whipped him around like a doll so he faced the arch. A white curtain billowed outward, but he could see the darkness behind it.

In a voice like a crashing waterfall, she said, _'I will call on you again.' _

She flung him forward into the void.

The buzzing began in his head, and the noise swelled until it sounded like he stood in the midst of a dense cloud of insects that might have been deciding to eat him alive. The prickling all over his skin left him itchy and uncomfortable. Then, the buzzing turned into a deep, dull pain behind his eyes. He thought he heard a heart beating right behind his ear, and every strained pulse felt like a clubbing on the head.

The first breath added the feeling of having a led weight sitting on his chest to the other bodily pains. With each ragged breath, he became aware of his limbs, and soon, he realized his heart might be pounding in his chest instead of in his head. That added assurance didn't take away from the fact that his heart sounded like he just ran a marathon, and the pain behind his eye lids felt like someone had been using his brain as a Bludger.

He sucked air through his mouth and retched. The vomit slid down his throat, and he began to choke on his own bile. Every other pain fell away as he tried to jerk his body upright, but he only succeeded in turning his head to the side so he could spit out all of the foulness in his mouth. At last, able to breathe unhindered, Cedric realized that all the pain meant one, certain thing.

He was alive.

The deal had been real.

He lay completely still and kept his mouth shut so he wouldn't breathe in and gag again. He could still taste the refuse that coated his tongue, and everything he smelled reminded him of rotting food. _'It's so quiet,' _he thought as he realized he couldn't hear anything other than his own breathing.

When he forced his eyelids open, the intense light made him immediately close them. With another effort, he squinted through tight lids, but this time, he realized the light was not the glaring sun of noonday, but only the dim light of a fluorescent bulb.

_'Where am I?' _Cedric wondered as he peered up at the bulb, which was set into a dirty, fly filled light fixture. The gray, unpainted concrete ceiling didn't do much to welcome him back to the world of the living, either. He stared down at his immediate surroundings and found he lay on what once might have been a white pillow that had yellowed with age until it was now the colour of crusted mustard.

_'This is feeling more unwelcoming each moment.' _Ignoring the stiffness in his neck, he turned his head again to stare down at his body.

A thrill went through him despite the drab, wool blanket that covered his body. _'I'm really alive. How did that even work?' _Cedric wondered as he stared at his rising and falling chest. He turned his cracked, dry lips up into what he thought might pass for a smile.

After the novelty of being alive wore off, Cedric tired to pull himself upright to get a better sense of his surroundings. _'Why am I so stiff?' _Cedric struggled to lift his upper body. Sweat broke over his brow from the effort, and his heart began to slam into his rib cage as he strained the weak muscles.

He used the black, wire headboard as a prop to sit up. As the stagnant air passed in and out of his mouth, he leaned down and heaved up more putrid, yellow mess all over himself and the grey blanket. After he stopped himself from retching again, he wiped his mouth with the collar of his dressing gown.

_'I need to get cleaned up.' _He wrinkled his nose and rolled up the gray blanket to hide the mess. When he did, he found himself staring down at a pair of thin legs, which were paler than the sheets.

_'A hospital makes some sense,' _Cedric realized as he held out his hands and stared at the yellowed, unclean nails attached to fingers with skin as white as the bones underneath it. He turned his head to look for a nightstand, where he figured there might be some water. He let out a brief, staccato scream that died the moment it left his mouth. Instead of a nightstand, he stared at another bed, exactly like his, where an ashen skined corpse lay. _'A morgue. Well, if I was dead, then that explains why I can't move anything.' _

Upon another glance, though, Cedric realized the corpse's chest rose and fell by barely noticeable amounts. _'Oh. It's alive,' _Cedric thought, and once again, his gut churned because of something besides the raw smell of his vomit. As he stared at the sunken, waxy face of the figure, he compulsively glanced back down at his own hands.

To his relief, Cedric realized, even though his arms looked impossibly thin and bony, that his skin did not cling like old leather to his bones. _'I guess I look fairly normal if I've been in this . . . this place for a while,' _Cedric thought as he gazed around the room. In the dim light, he couldn't see far, but he spied at least a dozen other beds. He saw a bed, several paces in front of his own, which he had missed before because it didn't seem ominous until he realized what it held.

_'If this is in St. Mungo's, I've never heard of this ward,' _Cedric thought as he let his eyes stray over all the beds that lingered in shadows illuminated with dots of murky light. _'I wonder if someone will come and check on me. Sitting here in my own vomit until God knows when is something I could do without.' _

Through the gloom, on the opposite side of the room, Cedric spied a white object. He leaned forward and squinted to bring the speck into view. _'A toilet! Maybe a sink, too!'_ Cedric's mind jumped with excitement. He bit down against his brittle lip as he steeled himself for the pain that would come when he tried to swing his legs over the bed.

He gritted his teeth together because the actual effort brought into sharp reality what the heaviest, and by far, the weakest muscles in his body were. He took a moment to rest when his feet touched the cold floor, which was painted the colour of pond slime. He tapped his feet against the ground, to convince himself that he could move them, while he thought of the next task.

_'If I push myself up too quickly, I'll probably fall,' _Cedric thought as he shifted some more weight onto his feet. He felt his knees shake a little under the added pressure, but they didn't collapse. He braced himself against the bed with his arms as he stood up. _'There it is,' _Cedric tried to motivate himself as he looked at the chasm between his bed and the next black, skeletal bed frame.

_'One, two, three.' _He flung himself away from his bed. At first, his knees buckled, but he kept his balance and limped over to the next bed. Then, he worked his way around the bed frame and used the mattress to help him walk along the obstacle. When he saw the yellow-skinned body, he almost let go of the mattress, but the shakiness in his legs kept him holding onto the bed. _'I can't walk on my own,' _Cedric thought drearily as his stomach knotted. He turned away from the lifeless figure as he worked his way to the end of the bed.

With another shove, Cedric staggered into the space between the two beds. He grasped the next bed frame and leaned against it to give his muscles a break. Inching around the bed frame, he stared into the face of another lifeless body. _'This one has been here for a while,' _Cedric thought as he wrinkled his nose against the odour coming from the still form.

The mouth fell open, and Cedric snapped his head back to see if the body would speak. Out of the mouth scurried a little brown creature, and before Cedric could move, another two followed it.

Whirling off balance, his wobbly legs collapsed under him. Cedric felt all the air knocked out of his body for a moment as he stared up at the concrete ceiling. He rolled over onto his stomach, even though he was certain there was nothing left to throw up. With a quick glance, he looked up at the bed, and then, ignoring the sour taste, he crawled across the floor.

He kept crawling, fighting the urge to gag. Sweat trickled down his back, face, and chest as he focused on the wall. Mercifully, the wall came closer, and he finally collapsed against the cool, damp concrete to rest. Looking back out at the rows of beds, Cedric thought, _'I don't envy whatever happened to these people.' _He glanced at the empty bed in the back corner, and a shiver rippled through his body. _'What kind of place is this? I thought they kept everyone in St. Mungo's, and these aren't Inferri.' _

_'Of course, what types of places are suitable to rise from the dead?'_ Cedric wondered. _'If you have to come back in some place like this . . . I can see why you almost wouldn't want to do it.' _At this thought, Cedric grinned. _'Yes, because people coming back to life is very common. Being dead must have made me stupid.' _

Looking to his right, Cedric spied the sink and toilet and began to scoot towards it. He gritted his teeth as the concrete's rough edges scratched his back, but he scooted along the wall until he reached the sink. Immediately, he twisted the knob, and he got a stream of clear, but odd smelling water, to pour from the tarnished spout.

He gulped the water, even though it had a bitter, metallic tang to it, and he splashed it over his face. As he pulled his head out from under the faucet to reach for a towel, he looked up at a face he didn't recognize.

"Bloody hell."

Cedric gazed into the mirror, which was missing a chunk from one corner, and stared at the strange face that gaped back at him. Now, his stomach churned again, but this time, he knew exactly where the uncomfortable feeling came from. He reached up and ran a shaking hand across the unfamiliar features.

He leaned down and heaved up the water he just drank. After he finished, he rinsed his mouth out again and took another, less frantic drink from the tap before turning it off again. Finally, he forced himself to stare up into the dingy, stained mirror again.

_'Why would I come back in my own body? I died. My body is underground somewhere,' _Cedric told himself, but the rationale didn't ease the discomfort of knowing he was looking at himself in a stranger's face.

He ran a hand through the fine, matted hair, which looked like it hadn't seen a comb or a pair of scissors in years. His fingers traced their way down the long, pale face and touched the sunken cheeks and the thin nose. He fingered the scraggly hair on his face, which annoyed him since he never liked facial hair.

_'That looks disgusting,' _Cedric thought as he touch his thin, cracked lips, which were lined with slits and scabs. He realized one of the scabs cracked open and had begun to bleed. He wiped the blood away from his mouth before turning away from the looking glass.

_'There's probably no one in this building. I can probably just walk right out of here. No one in this room looks like they're going to move any time soon.' _He then stopped and stared down at his vomit stained dressing gown. _'Huh. I might look suspicious in the street, though, and I have no wand, but, if I get out, what's to stop me from Apparating?' _

Cedric pushed himself off the floor and used the wall for support. _'There has to be a door.' _His eyes panned over the cement walls. With every minute that ticked past, his heart began to beat louder until it seemed to be beating behind his ears.

_'No doors,'_ Cedric realized as a chill crawled from his head down the entire length of his spine. _'If I can't find a door, I can't leave.' _He stared out at the rows of beds, which were coffins without the lids; Cedric began to feel his way along the wall. When he reached the first corner, he stuffed his finger into the crevice.

His fingers grazed something in the crack. _'Right where a doorknob would be.' _Cedric fiddled with the lump hidden in the corner. He moved his hand over it before trying to turn it, but to no avail. Then, he shoved it inward, and it disappeared from his hands. For a moment, he thought he did it wrong, but the clinking inside of the wall told him exactly what happened.

_'A key. The wall is unlocking,' _Cedric realized as the handle popped back out of the wall. When he turned it again, the knob twisted in his hand, and one part of the seemingly solid wall swung open.

At first, the air felt fresh, and the wind cooled off his body. After a moment of standing at the door, the chill breeze lashed against his sparsely covered body. Keeping one hand along the brick wall to guide himself, he manoeuvred away from the door. He stared down at the pavement so he could spot any pieces of glass that would rip his feet apart.

When he reached the street, he stared around at the rows of houses with only space enough for one person to stand between them. He looked up, but the stars hid behind a blanket of clouds, which reflected an orange haze from some factory burning late into the night. _'Well, no one will be out right now.' _

Without the wall to steady him, he found it much more difficult to walk, but his muscles remembered how to behave. While progress was slow, Cedric moved down the street on his own. Besides, he needed both hands to wrap around himself to protect his body from the chill of the early morning hours.

As he staggered down a hill, he stared up at the factory spires, which rose like obelisks over those who lived in their shadows. The giant pillars, erected to the Muggle gods of industry and production, spewed fumes into the night air and tinted the clouds the colour of the fire forever burning in their bellies. Under the shade of one of the huge towers, when the sky began to let go of the inky night and embrace the dull, gray day, Cedric came upon a house with a sign sticking out in front of it that read 'For Sale.'

By that time, Cedric's legs and arms were frozen. He stared at the boarded up windows and peeling paint that was the colour of egg rot. _'There's no one home in that place.' _Cedric popped open the latch to the rusted fence and walked up to the door. With a snort of frustration, Cedric realized he didn't have the strength to break open the door, which flaked off its baby blue paint shell to reveal the warped wood underneath.

He turned back to the street and stared around, and then, between that house and its equally ugly neighbour, Cedric saw what he wanted. He reached his arms over the fence and pulled a large piece of metal into his arms. With one quick swipe, he smashed the tarnished knob off the door. Now, the house yielded up its shabby secrets, and as he closed the door behind him, the smell of cigarettes and animal crashed upon Cedric's senses.

_'Fantastic,' _Cedric thought wryly as he moved into the kitchen. He pulled open the first two cabinets and found nothing, but when he opened the third, he saw some boxes and cans. He pried open one of the boxes and tore at the bag inside, and to his relief, whatever Muggle food inside was edible.

Like with the water, his stomach eventually filled, and he set down the box and stared at his surroundings. _'Well, I was right, no one's home, but they might only be gone for a while. The furniture is still here, even though they're selling this place.' _He ascended the narrow staircase covered in yellow carpet, which had holes worn in the spots where people stepped too many times.

On the second floor landing, Cedric peered in each bedroom door, and to his relief, he found that no one was sleeping in any bed. Cedric walked in and opened the closet in the room with the double bed, and to his delight, he realized he was looking at several sets of men's clothes. He yanked out a gray pair of pants and a blue, flannel shirt. In the bottom of the closet, he found a pair of scuffed, clunky black boats to complete his ensemble.

After tossing away his dressing gown for the over-sized clothes, Cedric reached in and pulled out a long, brown coat that smelled of mothballs. _'Somehow, this is not what I imagined.' _Cedric sniffed the coat, but he threw it over his arm and left to find the bathroom, but to his disappoint, there was no razor.

As he passed the mirror, he diverted his gaze after catching a glance of himself. _'I'm going to have to get used to that if I want to shave,' _Cedric thought as he descended the stairs and went back into the kitchen to grab the food. He flopped down upon the spongy, green couch, where the animal odour seemed to be the strongest, to finish off the contents of the box.

_'Where to now? I really don't want to stay in this little shack.' _Cedric rubbed his temples. He raked his hands through his matted, tangled hair, which only reminded him how he wished the bathroom upstairs had a decent pair of scissors. _'What's the chance that I could find another abandoned house?' _Cedric asked himself. _'Breaking into someone else's house seems a little classless,' _he decided and hoped that his situation didn't mean he had to dip to breaking and entering to sustain himself.

_'I could try _my _house,' _Cedric realized as his hands dropped into his lap. He gazed unseeingly at the wall before he admitted to that home is exactly where he wanted to go.


	2. Soul and Body

**Soul and Body**

In a woods, with trees withered by the absence of summer's warmth, a man stumbled out of the air and sprawled across the ground. He lay there for a moment before sitting up and spitting out the dirt in his mouth. _'Out of practice,' _Cedric thought as he stared up at the barren tree branches that grasped at each other with skeletal fingers.

As he looked upward at the grey sky, a different scene entered into his mind. In a dense fog, he wandered beneath low hanging branches that scratched at his head. He would come across grey tree trunks, but he could never climb them to find shelter in their branches. They only scraped at his head and made it itch, and he would scratch . . . scratch . . . scratch . . .

With a shudder, he turned his head away from the sky and stared at the carpet of brown leaves. _'Get moving,' _Cedric told himself as he stood up and pulled the coat closer to his body. Now, it didn't seem to matter much that the old coat smelled of moth balls.

As he came to the crest of a hill, Cedric saw the familiar cottage in the glen below. The house blended with the brown, yellow, and gray surroundings so well it seemed to have grown out of the ground like any of the trees. _'I forgot what it looked like in autumn because I was always at school,' _Cedric realized as he rubbed his sweaty palms against the coat.

He descended the slope and stopped behind a large oak at the edge of the tree line. Across the green lawn, speckled with fallen leaves, stood the house, and even though it was only several paces away, Cedric could not bring himself to cross the distance. He eyed the squat, stone chimney that jutted out of the thatched roof. _'It looks quiet.' _Cedric stared at the dark windows and smokeless chimney. _'If mum were there, she would be cooking,' _Cedric told himself, but he remained hidden behind the tree trunk.

After several minutes of watching the house, he stepped out from behind his shelter. As he shuffled across the grass, the leaves crunching under his feet, he couldn't ignore the little, nagging voice that said, _'Terrible idea. What are you doing here? You can't explain this one. Don't bother trying.' _

Before going to the door, Cedric tried to peer through the living room window. _'I can't see anything because the curtains are drawn.' _Cedric resisted the urge to press his face against the glass to get a better view.

Turning away from the window, Cedric approached the door and raised his hand to knock. He tapped lightly on the wood, and the sound seemed to echo through the entire forest, so he stopped and waited. When only the scraping of the branches in the wind answered him, he pounded his fist against the door.

_'No one really is home.' _Cedric's eyebrows shot up at the thought. _'Did I get lucky? I'm not even sure.'_ He turned the knob, but it didn't budge. _'I guess that would be too much to hope for,' _Cedric thought as he turned away from the door and began to kick up stray leaves.

As he paced across the lawn, an idea made him snap his head back to the door.

_'I wonder . . .' _

Cedric strode back over to the door and reached underneath a stone in the wall. As he began to wiggle it out of place, his mind jumped back several years.

Summer still blanketed the forest in an emerald dress, and just thinking of the warm air beneath the cool shade of the trees allowed him to forget the biting autumn chill. _"A friend at Gringotts told me how to fix a lock like they do with some of their vaults," _Cedric had told his dad as he shut the back door behind both of them.

_"Planning on storing a lot of gold in the house?"_ his father teased as Cedric picked a safe distance from the door.

_"No, I'm starting my own bank," _Cedric joked as he aimed his want at the door. _"Alohomora! Incendio! Confrigo!"_

Explosions and fire shot out around the door, but the door stood firm. _"I didn't know you wanted to destroy the house," _his dad snapped, but Cedric only laughed and pointed to the door.

_"It works. You can't open it with magic," _Cedric had told his dad, who, despite trying to be angry, had a grin on his face.

_"Then how are we supposed to get into the house?" _his dad asked.

_"With a key, of course," _Cedric mouthed the words he said ages ago as his fingers groped behind the brick. When he touched the tiny, metal object, he laughed with relief, but hearing his voice killed the sound in his throat.

The key slid into its spot, and after a turn, the tumblers gave. When Cedric tried the knob again, the door swung open with a light shove. After replacing the key, he paused on the edge of the doormat and wiped his feet before stepping into the dark, silent house. He kept the door from making a sound when it locked. He took his coat off, but decided not to hang it up on the coat rack.

He kept the shoes on, too, even though they clunked across the floorboards. Glancing into the living room, Cedric noticed the same photographs on the mantel and on the coffee table. He went over and picked up the picture of his dad and him from the Quidditch World Cup. When he tasted blood, he realized he had been gnawing on his lower lip. He set the picture down to wipe his mouth. _'I hope this cracked, bleeding lip business stops sooner than later,' _Cedric thought as he turned to go into the kitchen and rinse out his mouth.

Clunking across the floor, Cedric moved with less caution in the familiar environment. _'Not much has changed,' _Cedric thought as grabbed a glass of water. With the metallic taste of blood gone from his mouth, he looked around the kitchen and noticed dishes stacked up in the sink and on the counter.

_'Mum hasn't cleaned in a while,' _Cedric thought as he leaned down over the kettle sitting in the cold fireplace. He wrinkled his nose when he smelled the cold, rotting stew sitting in it. _'Maybe . . . why . . . I've never seen mum let the place get this messy,' _Cedric realized as he finished the glass and added it to the pile in the sink.

He frowned and pulled his hands down his face. _'Right, I need to shave,' _Cedric remembered as he touched the scraggly beard. He made his way up stairs, and the odour of soap greeted him in the bathroom. He found the razor and scissors easily enough, and then, he looked up into the mirror.

Ignoring the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach, Cedric chopped off all hair below his ears before running a comb through it. Then, he slowly began to shave over the unfamiliar facial features. With each slow stroke, more of the shaving cream disappeared to reveal the freckled, pasty white skin underneath. When he was done shaving, Cedric went back and trimmed the edges of the fine, flaxen hair until it suited him.

After doing his best to clean up the mess, Cedric looked at himself in the mirror again. The stranger's face frowned in union with him. _'I wonder how old this person is, or is it how old I am?' _he asked himself as he ran his fingers down a face that seemed too long and too thin. The grey-blue eyes mirrored the doubts in Cedric's mind. _'I might be thirty? I hope I didn't come back too much older.' _

_'Everything about this body seems too gangly and bony.' _Cedric ran his hands over the narrow bridge of his nose and down to his lips. _'Where did these come from? I've never seen scars like this._ Cedric pulled down his lower lip and traced a scar from the gum line to the outer lip. Inserting a finger into his mouth, he felt thin lines covering the tongue, the cheeks, and the roof of the mouth.

_'Did a bundle of razors get pulled out of his mouth?' _Cedric wondered as he wiped the blood off his lip when one of the scabs broke and bled. After the infatuation with the scars passed, Cedric left the bathroom and went back down the hallway. He paused at one of the doors on his left and gingerly fingered the doorknob.

_'I wonder if they changed my room. Is everything in boxes? Is it another guest bedroom? No, I don't think they would – '_

The door opened downstairs, and everything inside of Cedric froze. When the door shut, he realized he was holding his breath. His heart hammered against his rib cage and began to climb into his throat. He listened to the footfalls as they went from the front entranceway into the kitchen.

_'Terrible idea. Good plan. Time to explain this,' _the little voice in his head now dominated his thoughts. _'Get out. Get out. Get out! _

Cedric listened to the noise in the kitchen, and he slid his feet out of the clunky shoes so he could sneak down the stairs. _'I can get to the backdoor if they're in the kitchen.' _On the bottom step, Cedric froze as he thought, _'My mum or dad is probably in the kitchen.' _

The nagging voice screamed for him to run, but the pulling in his gut stopped him from slipping out the backdoor. _'Could they know me . . . anyway?' _Cedric wondered as he wiped his sweaty palms on the jacket and ignored the panicked voice telling him to run while he still could.

He crept down the stairs and back into the living room. With his heart pounding in his throat, Cedric rounded the corner into the kitchen. His father was hunched down by the fire place cleaning the kettle.

Cedric couldn't think of anything to say.

His father turned around before Cedric could react. For a moment, both of them stared wordlessly at each other.

"What the –"

Amos's face went from shock to rage and kept contorting between the two. "You! Get –"

Cedric found the ability to turn and sprint out the back door. He heard footsteps behind him, but he forced himself to the Apparation boarder. As he stood there, gasping in ragged breaths, Cedric thought of where he needed to go.

_'Someplace safe . . . come on . . . where no wizard knows me . . .' _

With a crack, Cedric left the forest and found himself stumbling across pavement. He steadied himself and stared up at the sandstone building.

_'A church? I've only been to one in my entire life . . .' _

It had been the only church he ever went inside, and the trip was his mum's idea. _"It's a lovely piece of Muggle work. For the life of me, I can't figure out how they build such things! I grew up around here, in Carlisle, Cedric,"_ she told him as she took his hand. He thought he might have been seven.

_"Muggles need religion because they don't know any better," _his father grumbled.

_"I know, I know, but it's still a lovely place," _his mother had replied.

_'I just always assumed Muggles were superstitious to believe in some god that sounds like nothing more than a wizard with an ego,' _Cedric thought as he strode up the steps and pushed the door open. The silence of the large stones and heaven reaching arches pressed upon him as he shut the door and shuffled down an aisle. _'Mum always tolerated dad and I joking about Muggle superstition . . . I guess she never took me to another church because she realized I already agreed with dad. _

As he let his fingers slide over the stone pillars, Cedric made his way into the main area of the cathedral. He craned his neck and looked up at the replication of what seemed to be an unmoving sky. The royal blue ceiling seemed like the bright, noonday sky bedazzled with a thousand golden stars.

"Our tour hours are going to be over soon."

Cedric snapped his head down to stare at the petit Muggle woman. "Uh, I'm sorry," Cedric muttered and rubbed his throat.

"Can I help you with something? Did you lose the tour group?" she asked, and Cedric shook his head.

"My mum, she used to live around here. I wanted to see the place again."

_'It's like hearing someone else talk for me,' _Cedric thought as he rubbed his throat again, and the woman seemed to have picked up on how uncomfortable he was.

"That's nice, sir, but I'm going to have to ask you to come back tomorrow."

"Do you believe in God? A god?"

The rapid question seemed to shock the woman a little, but it stunned Cedric even more. The woman composed herself and replied, "I do. I grew up in the Anglican church, and I believe in God and his son, Jesus."

Cedric shrugged. _'Hmm, didn't see either of them.'_ "What, what do you believe happens after you die?" Cedric asked the woman, who gnawed on her lower lip for a moment.

"I think you might want to talk to a priest about –"

"No, I want to ask you. I . . . I, uh, don't care if you don't consider yourself an expert on the subject."

"I believe, if you believe in Jesus and live a good life, you will go to heaven," the woman said with a slight blush on her cheek.

"If you live a good life?" Cedric asked. "What if you just don't . . . what if your life wasn't good enough? What happens?"

"I . . . some people believe in purgatory, but some people believe you go to hell," the woman replied softly and shuffled her feet. "Listen, I still think you should go –"

Cedric saw the man in red robes turn a corner and point his wand. He ducked and the spell hit the Muggle woman.

Before he could react, he heard a shooting breeze behind his head. The next moment, he collapsed on the cold stones.

Chapter End Notes:

A/N: Hope this is going well. I haven't had much feedback on this fic, which kind of surprises me since it's not something that's really been done before as far as I know. I guess it might seem a little clichéd because of that fact.


	3. Stranger

**Stranger**

"It's your turn to check on him!"

_'What?' _

Cedric tried to twist his neck, but not even his pinkie toe would budge. _'I guess I'm not supposed to be walking around.'_ Enough light streamed through the cracked large, metal door studded with bolts for Cedric to see it. He didn't need any light to see the cold, hard stones he had been sitting on for hours. He could also feel the place where his head smacked against the floor of the church.

"My turn?" a boy hissed.

_'I know that voice.' _Cedric focused his throbbing mind to concentrate on the two speakers hidden behind the prison door.

"Just in case you forgot, I checked last time!" Ron Weasley yelped. _'I knew I was right! It's Weasley . . . but what is he doing down here?' _Unable to do anything else, Cedric continued to listen to the conversation between Ron and the young woman.

"I was running an errand, so it _would_ have been my turn, but you _had_ to take it for me," the woman murmured. "Therefore, it's _your _turn."

"Okay, come off it! You're just as spooked as I am." Ron paused, and then whispered, "What if he's awake?"

"Well, that'll be _your_ problem, but – "

"Oh yeah, right!" Ron squeaked. "It's _always_ my problem! You sit around and take the credit, but it's always Ron who – "

"What is going on?" a deep, base voice barked through Ron's complaints. Ron yelped, but then all was silent for a moment.

"Ron was just going to check on the prisoner," the woman said.

"I-It's her turn!" Ron stammered.

"The two of you are the most useless apprentices. This is how you check on a prisoner," the man grumbled as he flung the door open. It banged against the wall and the hollow clang echoed around the cell and through Cedric's body. Cedric found himself staring at a tall Auror with a buzz cut and a salt-and-pepper beard.

Cedric looked past the Auror to the two red robed young people hesitating at the doorway. _'Ron and one of the Indian twins . . . can't remember her name . . . and wow, they look older. They're Aurors?' _Ron turned and mouthed, 'He's awake!' to the Indian girl, who stood stiffly in the shadow of the older, gruff Auror and didn't enter the room.

"Well, you're awake. Nice of you to join us," the man barked as he strode over to Cedric, who meet the steely gaze of the older Auror. Cedric wanted to wrench his gaze off the intimidating man, but the commanding presence standing over him was overwhelming. _'What did I do?' _Cedric wondered, but he couldn't unhinge his mouth to speak. The man knelt down and stared Cedric in the eyes. An uncomfortable prickling sensation passed through Cedric's forehead, but the Auror only scowled.

"Stop using Occulemency on me."

Now, it was Cedric's turn to frown. _'I'm not doing that intentionally. If he can't read my mind . . . oh, that would have been too easy. He could have just looked and seen what happened, but if he can't see . . . '_

The Auror turned away from Cedric as a group of loud voices began to get closer. The first thing Cedric could make out was a woman's crisp voice saying, "You are just here for observation purposes, Venturini."

"Do you realize what we're dealing with? This is bizarre, even by wizarding standards," a man's voice answered. The shuffling of feet let Cedric know they were on the threshold to his prison cel. The two Auror apprentices scattered out of the doorway to let the party of three Healers, two Aurors, and a woman dressed in a very fine and stately black velvet robe pass into the room.

_'Quite a crowd.'_ The Aurors and healers gathered around Cedric, but the two Auror apprentices hung in the background. _'I can't blame them,'_ Cedric thought as the black robed woman stepped forward.

"Interrogate him so we can take him to Azkaban," the woman snapped. Her white hair, pale skin, and black velvet robes seemed to turn her into a harsh, contrasted monochrome figure. The woman seemed like a giant to Cedric, and he noted her and the handsome, blonde male Healer were the tallest people in the room.

The male Healer with the thick, blonde hair spoke again. "At least I know what this is all about now. No games with you, Madame Thackery."

"Azkaban?" Cedric wheezed through his cotton mouth. Now, all eyes turned towards him again. _'You couldn't keep silent? For just another moment?' _Cedric asked himself as he mentally squirmed under the appraising gazes. The two other Healers, a middle aged woman and a younger man, wore the same uncomfortable expressions as the two Auror apprentices. The two Aurors that came with the stern woman kept their stoic composure, but the gruff Auror scowled.

The woman scrunched her lips together. "Come now, of course you're going to prison. Dawlish, what did you find?"

"I can't read his mind," Dawlish, who had lead the apprentices into the room, growled. _'I can't help that,' _Cedric thought dully as he looked up at his towering judges.

"Hmmm, well, we can side step that problem," the woman replied sharply. "Come now, bring the Veritaserum."

"I object to the use of Veritaserum," the blonde Healer announced as he kept his eyes trained on Madame Thackery.

"Why is that?" Dawlish snarled.

The Healer launched into an explanation. "I hope, since you are all employees of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, that you would be interested in following the magical protocols regarding the use of Veritaserum. For instance, if one has been interrogated with Veritaserum before, interrogation with Veritaserum is not allowed again unless one has a life threatening injury and has not had the opportunity – "

" – to provide a confession to be used during trial," the woman snapped. "As the head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I am _well_ aware of my department's own rules!"

"And the only reason you're here, Healer Venturini, is because one Healer, one Auror, and one other Ministry official need to be present at the interrogation of a suspect when they are detained in the Ministry of Magic," the one bald, stoic Auror replied in an even, almost monotone, voice.

"I think that if Veritaserum cannot be used, we simply send him back to prison," Dawlish suggested.

Healer Venturini spun to face Dawlish. "Have you ever heard of an incident like this? We don't know what we're dealing with! Shipping him back to Azkaban is a colossal mistake of closed mindedness!"

"I spent my life chasing down Dark Wizards, and we have one of the nastiest sons-of-a-bitch that ever followed You-Know-Who!" Dawlish stepped forward, and the air cracked between the Healer and the Auror. The bald Auror put his hand on Dawlish's shoulder, and the surly Dawlish stepped back from the Healer.

"I think Venturini has a point."

"Robards – "

"No, Dawlish, we have no idea what has happened. I, however, would support the administration of Veritaserum to the suspect."

"Criminal," Dawlish snarled in response to Robards's calm logic. _'What the hell are they going to do to me? What did I do?' _Cedric kept his mouth shut as he thought about the administration of Veritaserum that seemed likely to come sooner rather than later.

"I petition to administer the Veritaserum after the suspect has had a proper medical evaluation," Healer Venturini snapped during the lull in conversation. Dawlish bristled at this comment, but Robards appeared non-phased.

"Send him to my ward, and after examination, I will gladly invite all of you to examine the suspect." Venturini spat out the last word, and Robards stepped between a reddening Dawlish and a very smug Venturini.

"What would this accomplish? Retrieve the Veritaserum and finish this nonsense," Thackery snapped as she shot an icy glance down at Cedric that made him advert his gaze to the ground.

"While I'm sorry to ruin your plans to send your suspect to Azkaban, I think it would be prudent to study this phenomenon." Cedric's gaze returned to Venturini's face. "Besides, I also brought the adequate number of Healers to transport a suspect to Saint Mungo's, just like you brought the adequate number of Aurors to take a criminal to Azkaban."

Thackery turned and gave Venturini the same cold stare she had given Cedric. "I would side with Venturini for the time being. We will be keeping tabs on our suspect until . . . until Healer Venturini has adequate answers," Robards replied in his monotone voice. Then, he gave Venturini a sharp look.

"I expect full cooperation from you. Healer Venturini, you will figure out your answers on a timely scale, or I will assure you we will do that for you."

After Robards spoke, he pulled out a black back. Cedric stared at it, and he instinctively knew what they were going to do, but he didn't try to struggle because it was pointless. The bag slid effortlessly over his head and mercifully removed the scene before his eyes.

A/N: Thanks for all the positive comments! I can't say I really have much to say about this fic because the major plot lines are just getting set up. This is the chapter where the other major character, Adam Venturini, is introduced. I really wanted Ron to make an appearance. I thought about having Harry being one of the Aurors, but the scene with Ron was too good to not write. Just for clearification, some of the things mentioned in this chapter are not canon. Robards is supposed to be the Head Auror, though, and I believe that is canon. Dawlish is also mentioned in canon, and the other Auror is going to be introduced next chapter. Eloise Thackery, Emery Nissel, and Cassandra Barnes are most definitely not canon, and I created them to fill holes in this fic that the books/Potterverse just could not satisfy.


	4. This Place is a Prison

**This Place is a Prison**

They never removed the body binding curse. Since no one but Robards spoke, and that was only quick, little commands, Cedric could not tell where he was or who was with him. _'I'm pretty sure I'm going to Saint Mungo's, but other than that . . . At least it's not Azkaban.' _

The black bag caused Cedric's breathing to be shallow, and the hot air caused sweat to drip down his face. The strings scratched against his neck, and he wanted to itch that spot. His entire body ached, but after his most recent treatment, Cedric could only think, _'If they give me a drink of water, I'll be lucky. It's been a while since I've eaten or had something to drink.' _

When Venturini spoke, Cedric thought they might have entered Saint Mungo's at last. He heard a swishing sounds, like drapery being drawn back, and when they plunked him down on what he assumed to be a bed, he felt certain they had arrived. Then, someone yanked the hood off. Cedric found himself staring at Robards, Thackery, Venturini, and the Auror and two Healers he didn't know. _'They look as cross as before,' _Cedric noted as Thackery turned her nose up in his direction.

"I would like Savage to ensure he is secured." The other Auror, who had a rather large nose and slicked back, black hair, jumped into action as if Robards shouted the order at the top of his lungs. Savage flicked his wand in sharp little beats like an anxious orchestra conductor. In the end, even though it was a completely transparent, a charmed bubble surrounded the hospital bed in which Cedric lay.

Venturini, clasping his hands behind his back like a school boy, turned to Thackery. "Does that please you?"

The woman turned her stony gaze upon Venturini again. "I hope this meddling, in what appears to me a rather simple matter, has made you happy. You will report directly to Robards. I will check up on you, and try to keep this part of the ward closed."

With those words, the Head of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement turned and strode away. Savage and Robards nodded to the three Healers before they took their leave. Cedric sat there, utterly exhausted. _'At least they're gone.'_

Now, the attentions of the Healers came to rest fully upon him again.

******

With a flick of his wand, Venturini conjured bedding and clothes. He passed them through the charm bubble by hand. "This is Healer Barnes," Venturini gestured towards the middle aged woman with mousy brown hair tightly wound up in a bun. "This is Healer Nissel and I am Healer Venturini. You are staying on the Morticia Gregel Ward, of which I am Head Healer. Now, we'll take our leave while you dress."

Healers Barnes and Nissel exited first. Venturini pulled the steel grey, floor length curtain shut as he followed the other two Healers out into the hallway. Since it was still in the early hours of the morning, no wizards bustled up and down the hallways on their way to tend patients or to visit sick relatives.

Barnes crossed her arms as she gazed at a place over Venturini's head. In a tired voice, she said, "I hope you're happy, Adam."

"Thank you, Cassandra." Venturini nodded towards her. "I don't expect Thackery will be calling you for any Ministry favours after this ordeal."

Cassandra Barnes shook her head. "I could do with a little less attention from Eloise," Barnes replied as she turned to Nissel, who had contented himself with silently shifting his weight between both feet.

"You did well, Emery," Barnes said in a soothing, motherly voice. The comment caused the younger Healer to jerk his head up from his gaze on the floor. "You should give the boy a rest, Adam. I need to be back on the Sanguine-Levette ward. I hope I don't need your services for a very long time."

"You could have handled it."

Barnes paused and gave Venturini a long, appraising look. "I didn't want to handle it. When I heard . . . well, I just let the strange and unsavoury cases to you."

She turned and left before either of the two male Healers could say anything. After Barnes passed through a set of double doors, Venturini turned his attentions back to Emery Nissel. "You aren't going to be allowed contact with the patient except at meal times and when I need you to help me take him to the bathing room."

Emery bit his longer lip. "That's good . . . I mean . . . why?"

Adam sighed and crossed his arms. "You are obviously very nervous around him," Venturini replied, and Emery only shrugged in response. "I also want to try and keep this confined to the fourth floor, and hopefully, on the small section of our Ward, if that's possible. I don't need him to become a tourist attraction."

"Don't you think _The Prophet/i will do that for you?"_

Adam chuckled. "It could go either way. This is something that might be actually worth reporting, so there is a chance they will never publish it. On the other hand, it has first page written all over it."

Emery sighed. "What . . . what are you going to do? I mean – "

"I am going to isolate him for a while. Under no circumstance, when you do have any contact with him, are you to tell him any information about anything he asks. If Dawlish could not use Legilimency on him, I doubt I can, and I want to know what he knows."

"Veritaserum?" Emery asked timidly.

"Emery, I picked you for my assistant because you possess the ability to reach a conclusion without the use of magic," Adam replied in an almost bored tone. "I need to know how he thinks. I want to understand every aspect of this situation, and while useful, Veritaserum has its limits. I don't care so much about what he is willing to tell me but about what he's desperate to hide from me."

Adam paused and waited for Emery's response. The young Healer nodded several times as Adam went back into the room. When the Head Healer was out of ear-shot, Emery mumbled, "You only picked me because you had last pick."

*****

The grey curtain, which reminded Cedric of an angry sky about to rain, spanned the entire length of the room and drug on the floor. Cedric stared at the pasty, yellow walls that tried to bring some pastel cheer to the room. Cedric reached for the clothes at the end of the bed and looked out the small window with black bars across it. _'It's dark out. I guess they would have wanted to move me at night. Has it been a day since I . . . I woke up?' _

Cedric undressed out of the shabby clothes and put on the white t-shit, royal blue scrubs, and grey house coat they had given him. He stared at the sea foam green blanket and wrinkled his nose. He sat and waited, glad to be left alone for a moment. He sighed and pulled the crisp, white sheet over himself before lying down. _'I'll just sit here, thank you. Whatever they're planning, I'd rather not participate. Please forget I'm even here.' _

Only too soon did Cedric hear the swish of the curtain being drawn open. He sat up as Venturini entered. _'I hope he decides to feed me,' _Cedric thought as Venturini pulled the curtain closed and conjured a chair to sit down upon. For a moment, the handsome Healer contented himself with staring at Cedric.

"You've been very silent."

Cedric shrugged. "Water, please," he asked. When he spoke, he tasted something metallic in his mouth. _'Oh, those damned scars are bleeding again.' _He leaned over and spit out crimson saliva into the edge of the bed sheet. As he did so, he stared at Venturini, who seemed attracted to the blood like a shark.

"Water, please."

The Healer pulled his wand from inside the pocket of his lime green robe. Venturini tapped an empty glass sitting on a small tray table that also held some basic bathroom essentials. Cedric took the glass out of Venturini's hand once it was inside the charm barrier. It took two gulps for Cedric to down the water. He went to pass the glass back out, and his hand smacked against the barrier.

"Bloody hell!"

The cup clattered to the white linoleum floor as Cedric held his numb forearm. "Don't try to pass through it," Venturini replied coolly as he picked up the glass and tapped it with his wand to fill it with water.

Venturini passed his hand easily through the barrier. "So . . . how can you pass through?" Cedric asked as he took the glass with his other hand.

"The specific spell Savage used is actually almost the inverse of the Fidelius Charm," Venturini replied coolly as he stretched and relaxed into the little folding chair. "Everyone can see you and pass into your own little space, but you can't go anywhere. I should also add that no magic works inside that bubble."

Cedric sighed. "If I need to go the bathroom? Take a shower?"

"No need in trying to figure out how to escape tonight. I am also fully knowledgeable about casting this charm, so your more private needs will be met," Venturni replied as he folded his hands on his lap.

_'So, I'm in a prison that encourages the telling of secrets. Probably not coincidental, but probably not helpful for Venturini, either. What he wants to know, I can't tell him.' _The two men stared at each other while Cedric began to fidget with the hem of his grey house robe. Venturini remained perfectly composed in his chair as if he were a first year pupil demonstrating how well he could stay seated.

"I would like a shower, actually, and maybe something to eat," Cedric said after the staring contest became a bore to him. Venturini remained silent and unmoved in his chair. _'Whatever he wants to know, he's going to be sitting there for a long time before he hears it from me,' _Cedric thought as he repeated his request to Venturini.

Finally, the Healer leaned forward in the chair. "You're not curious about anything?"

_'No, I actually really want some answers, but I don't think you're going to give them to me quicker than anyone else will. Every time someone looks at me, I get the same disastrous feeling something is very wrong, and I'm sorry, Healer Venturini, but I'm convinced that you're keeping something from me for your own purposes because I can see that look in your eyes, too. All of you know me, but I have no idea who it is you think I am.' _

After his imaginary conversation with Venturini, Cedric leaned back against the pillow and waited. Venturini kept his eyes trained on the silent man. Finally, the Healer said, "I need to tend some other people on the ward. I'll be back to escort you to the washroom."

"How kind," Cedric replied dully.

Venturini stood up and stretched. "Would you like some more water?"

"No thank you, I can wait for that, too." As Venturini nodded and walked away, Cedric thought, _'You can't bait me that easily.' _

_A/N: Thanks for the many positive things that have been said about this fic. I might change the name of it, though, because I'm not 100% happy with the title. I will also give my thanks to The Postal Service for helping me name this chapter. Naming chapters can be really, really difficult._


	5. Obliviate

**Obliviate**

The trees scratched the top of Cedric's head as he zigzagged through the silver trunks without a sound. Like a ceiling, the fog hovered over him, and he could see only about another foot above his head, but he didn't want to look up.

_'Never look up. Never look up . . .'_

He trend soundlessly over the blue grass, keeping his head down all the while. He knew their blue faces . . .

They were waiting for him. In the land of the washed-out colours, Cedric looked up into the bright, yellow animal eyes. He scrambled away from them, but the more he looked, the stronger their feral gazes became.

They wanted him.

Cedric jolted awake. He wiped the sweat off his face.

"Sleep well?"

Cedric blinked several times, even thought he recognized Venturini's voice. The Healer seemed to have Apparted to Cedric's bedside. Cedric gave Venturini what he hoped would be a cold stare, but he figured, _'I probably look more like a sleepy drunk than anything else.' _

Venturini put Cedric's lunch on a tray table and slid it over to him. Cedric stared down at the sandwich and chips before he looked back up at Venturini. "Can I have a newspaper? _The Prophet_, maybe?"

Venturini shook his head as he crossed his arms. "We've been over this everyday all week long. No newspapers, books, or anything else magical goes inside that bubble."

_'Yes, I get it, you're trying to keep me isolated so I'll crack. I've gathered that, too,' _Cedric thought wearily as he remembered his week at Saint Mungo's. He realized that the curtain separating him from the rest of the world had a silencing charm on it, so he couldn't hear anything happening beyond his side of the steely drape. The little window that offered him so much hope his first night here only came with the view of a brick wall over a tiny, dingy alley.

Venturini established a daily routine that began with breakfast. After breakfast, Venturini and Nissel would come back, Venturini would remove the bubble, and Cedric would be escorted to a bathroom. Afterwards, he would sit in his bed until they brought lunch. Today, he fell asleep before lunch. After lunch, Cedric knew Venturini would visit several more times, Nissel would serve him dinner, and he would try and sleep during the night.

_'There's nothing else to do but sleep,' _Cedric thought dully. They refused him everything. He wanted to read. Venturini said he couldn't do that at all. There was no one to play a game with, and nothing magical would work inside his charm bubble anyway. Finally, Nissel caved on day three and brought him a pack of Muggle playing cards. He knew a few games from his Muggle born friends, but he didn't remember them well; maybe that's why the cards lost their entertainment value quickly. Or, as Cedric rather suspected, Muggle games were just boring.

Then, there were the nightmares. They began the first night in the hospital, and because he slept lightly, Cedric had them every night. To his annoyance, Venturini seemed to have figured out about the nightmares. _'Well, he can't read my mind, so he's just going to have to be curious. Only he would be overjoyed that I'm bored out of my mind and having nightmares.' _

While Venturini stood silently over Cedric's bed, the two locked gazes. _'And I thought he was going to save me! Ha!' _Cedric remembered that his first impressions of Venturini as a saviour quickly faded after their first meeting. _'He wants me for the same reason the Aurors do. I'm a spectacle, and he just wants to study me. Instead of a cell in Azkaban, he's put me in a hospital bed.' _

"I'll see you this afternoon," Ventuini said as he turned and left the room. The curtain whooshed shut behind him, and the sounds of the hospital faded. Cedric sighed and picked at his lunch. With nothing to do, he found he had no appetite, either. He drank the water and finished half the sandwich before he pushed away the tray table.

Cedric popped his head up again. Nissel came into collect his tray table. Before the Healer could pick up the tray, a woman Healer rushed into the room.

"Someone put poison in the soup at the Leaky Caldron. We're swamped downstairs."

For the first time, Cedric watched Nissel forget he existed as he ran out of the room. _'It's kind of nice to be ignored again. He even left the curtain open.'_

Cedric listened, but he didn't hear much noise beyond the drape today. He still couldn't see outside of his bedchamber, but it didn't sound like anything interesting was happening on his ward. He leaned back in his bed and stared up at the ceiling.

When he heard the curtain move, Cedric raised his head. A woman in yellow scrubs and a white t-shirt cautiously stepped into the room. _'If the curtain hadn't moved, I doubt I would have even noticed her. Her bare feet allowed her to sneak in so quietly.'_

"Were you sleeping?"

"Susan?"

The woman tilted her head to one side as she continued to look at Cedric. "Everyone knows my name, don't they? Where did you find it?"

Cedric tried to close his gaping mouth. _'I thought she looked familiar, but when she spoke . . . wait, what did she mean about her name?'_ Cedric tried to get over the strange question, but then, he saw the little white tag on her chest emblazoned in ink with the name 'Susan' on it.

"I-it's on your shirt," Cedric stammered as he pointed at her. Susan stared down and fingered the little, white tag.

"You're right! How nice. No one everyone knows me," Susan giggled as she stared back up at Cedric. "You don't have a name tag. What's your name? Have we met?"

Cedric slowly shook his head. "No . . . no we haven't met."

Susan only shrugged. _'She doesn't seem upset that I didn't answer that tricky name question. She's dressed in hospital clothes, too. Maybe I didn't get a nametag because Venturini is determined to keep me hidden. I am a special case, after all.'_

Susan stared around the room, and then walked over to the window. _'She lost interest in me fast.' _Only with Susan more interested in staring at the brick wall did Cedric realize that no one had really stopped gawking at him since the first painful moment of seeing his father. _'Anonymity is a bit nice to have again.' _

"It's not much of a view," Cedric said, and Susan looked back over in his direction.

"I don't think I have a window in my room," Susan replied as she unfolded the chair Venturini usually sat on when he came for his visits. She sat down and leaned forward on the chair so her elbows rested on the tray table. "I don't think I had lunch yet," Susan said as she stared down at Cedric's half eaten meal. "Can I eat these?"

Cedric nodded. As Susan began to munch on the chips, Cedric found himself realizing how little attention she paid him. _'She really has no idea who I am . . . or who everyone thinks I am. Maybe she hasn't read the papers. Maybe it's not in the papers . . . _

"Susan, how long have you been in Saint Mungo's?" Cedric asked.

Susan paused to finish chewing a chip before she said, "Oh . . . I don't really know. How long have you been here?"

"You don't know?" Cedric asked. Susan frowned and looked down at her hands.

"I told you I don't know!" she snapped as she got up from the chair. Susan's face filled with fear, and she looked like a trapped animal looking for somewhere to run.

_'She . . . she's lot her memory. That's why she has the name tag . . . it's to remind her of her own name . . .' _

"Susan . . . f-finish my lunch," Cedric stammered. "Please?"

Susan's eyes darted back to Cedric. She stared at him suspiciously for a moment, and Cedric felt a shiver go down his spine as a brief, knowing look crossed Susan's face. _'Does she . . .'_

Then, the moment passed, and Susan's entire body seemed to relax. She sat down and began to eat the chips again as if nothing odd happened.

"These are really good," Susan said after a moment. "Why didn't you want them?"

"I-I . . . I wasn't hungry," Cedric fumbled out the words. _'She went crazy, but now . . . it's like nothing went wrong. I remember reading how memory loss can alter personality, but she really seemed terrified. I can't very well ask her how she got her memory erased, though.'_

"Susan!"

A woman who looked like the generic image of a grandmother on Muggle food boxes bustled into the room. She shot Cedric a fearful glance as she pushed the tray table away from Susan. "Come on, honey, let's go. You can't be in here."

The woman grabbed Susan by the arm, and for a moment, Susan tensed up. _'Is she going to have another fit?' _Cedric wondered as the elderly woman attempted to pull Susan out of the chair. Susan stared off into space, but when she was tugged, she stood up.

"I'll take you to get some lunch, okay?" the woman cooed, and Susan followed her out of the room. Before she disappeared behind the curtain, Susan smiled and waved to Cedric. This time, the Healer didn't forget to close the curtain behind her.

Not long after the Healer and Susan left, Venturini came back, flinging the curtain aside before closing it again. _'That didn't take long. Good for him to realize he's only human, after all.' _Cedric watched Venturini pace the room for a moment before sitting down in the folding chair.

"I have something to talk about today," Cedric said as he positioned himself so he was sitting cross-legged in the center of the bed.

"I'm sure you do," Venturini replied dryly.

"How did Susan lose her memory?"

Venturini pursed his lips. "Come on, now, you've been begging me to tell you anything for days. Why is Susan at Saint Mungo's?" Cedric pressed the issue.

Venturini leaned back in the chair, his hands still resting on his lap. _'Come on, tell me something. It's not a very harmful question.' _Cedric fought the urge to chew on his lower lip. Venturini seemed to be looking just beyond Cedric's head.

"How do you know Susan?" Venturini finally asked, but his gaze still remained distant.

Cedric bit into his lower lip. "She walked into my room today. I noticed she'd lost her memory."

_'Come on, I didn't give that much away. Come on . . . just tell this to me. You're going to lock me up here until they send me to Azkaban . I deserve to know . . . something.' _Cedric look the edge of his grey robe and wiped the blood from his mouth. Adam leaned forward in the chair, and Cedric focused on the Healer again.

"Okay, I can tell you a little bit about Susan," Venturini said in what Cedric judged to be a perfect conversational tone. "She was brought here last October. She performed a Memory Charm on herself, but that's not what I personally considered interesting about her case. You see, it takes a bit of skill to be able to cast a very powerful memory charm. With some exception, most people who cast a memory charm on themselves only erase very short periods of their memory, but as you saw, Susan has trouble remembering her own name."

"Why did she cast it on herself?" Cedric asked. "Did it backfire?"

"That's what the Aurors were led to believe happened, but no one could figure out why she cast the first charm on some random Muggle. The second one was probably intended for the first Muggle's companion, but she cast it on herself. However, that's not what really interests me right now," Venturini's voice acquired an edge as he leaned forward again, like a fox cornering a rabbit. "What really is interesting is that, out of all the people you've met, Susan is the first one you've asked about. I think this means you know her."

_'Hmmm . . . I should have figured the chit-chat was just to put me off guard,' _Cedric thought as he continued to stare at Venturini. Finally, Cedric replied, "Who says I haven't known everyone I've met? You have no idea what I do or do not know."

Venturini chuckled and stood up. "I think you're a bit wrong there. I'll be around for your full physical examination in several days."

_'Swell. Really great, Cedric, well played,' _Cedric mentally scolded himself. _'That man is never going to tell you anything. He knows who you're supposed to be, but he's not going to ever tell you, is he? And what now? I'm going to have to listen to him interrogate me every day until the Aurors remember I exist. Then, they throw me in Azkaban for crimes I never committed.' _


	6. Scars

**Scars**

Fog hung over the streets of London like someone built the sky so only goblins could pass underneath the cloud cover. With a pop, Adam found himself in a back alley way, unable to see the hand in front of his face. _'This is a bit claustrophobic,' _Adam thought as he lit his wand and proceeded to cross the street to the entrance of Saint Mungo's. His wand touched the tip of the brick before he could see the building.

Once inside the adequately lit entrance lobby, Adam extinguished his wand and stowed it in the pocket of his lime green robe. The witch at the desk, busy reading yesterday's _Prophet_, didn't give him a second glance. _'I guess it's a bit early to be busy, but that only means this place will be chaos later in the day,' _Adam speculated as he stared around at the empty lobby and the stained, rickety chairs before walking over to the staircase. _'Well, I guess it is five in the morning.' _

Adam flung open the door to the back staircase and began his ascent. The stair well, a relic from the original Muggle building, smelled of damp feet. The pealing, canary yellow paint only enhanced the unpleasantness as Adam listened to his feet thump upon the stairs until he reached the fourth floor.

_'Well, this will be the only time today this floor will be silent.' _Adam passed the floor's two main Wards, the Janus Thickey and the Sanguine-Levette, before arriving at the entrance to his own Ward. The Morticia Gregel Ward had been an add-on to the two other existing Wards when Saint Mungo's moved to the larger building over a century ago. While the Janus Thickey Ward took care of those whose brains were permanently affected by magic, the Sanguine-Levette Ward was the largest Ward on the floor. Healer Barnes presided over those with 'magical wasting' or other unexplainable and non-curable conditions caused by magical trauma. The well known fact was that, if you landed on the fourth floor, you were going to be there for quite some time.

The Morticia Gregel Ward had been added to care for what Adam always thought of as magical phenomena. Now, he knew that wasn't the correct terminology. The ward was designed to care for those affected by horrible or unnatural magic. What that meant was up for debate, but the common fact remained that no one wanted on that Ward. There were several sections to the ward, and each had three beds separated by charmed, sound proof curtains.

_'And to think I volunteered for this Ward.' _Adam flung back the first steel grey curtain. In the bed lay a dozing Emery Nissel.

_'Well, he certainly didn't want this Ward.' _Adam drew his wand and caused a loud, popping sound to echo throughout the bed chamber. Nissel jumped up and tumbled out of the bed.

"You're supposed to watch the Ward at night," Adam stated, but it was hard for him to muster any type of convincing authority this early in the morning.

Nissel only shrugged. "I was at the entrance . . . who is going to get out, anyway?"

"You left the curtain open yesterday and let someone in."

Nissel cringed. "There . . . it was an emergency! I can't help it Healer Strout can't keep track of her patients."

Adam sighed. _'That's too true. With a ward filled with mentally unstable patients, her only solution is to let them run all over the entire floor.' _

Nissel shifted his weight between his feet while he alternated gazing at the floor and at Adam. The experienced Healer appraised his charge from his head of thick, dark curls to his feet that were glad in brown leather shoes. "Emery, don't be too upset about yesterday. He asked about Susan. It's the first real breakthrough I've had all week."

Nissel focused his gaze on Adam. "I mean . . . he was at Hogwarts with her, right? I mean . . . shouldn't he know her anyway?"

Adam crossed his arms as his brow knit up. "I thought of that myself, but he hasn't asked about anything – or anyone – else since coming here. All he only asks for things to read every day."

"Yeah, the Aurors aren't going to be happy when they show up today, and we've got nothing to tell them," Emery muttered.

Adam raked a hand through his thick, blonde locks. _'Thackery won't leave me alone until she throws him back in prison.' _Adam waved his hand, as if to banish all thoughts of the stern and meddlesome Head of the Magical Law Enforcement. "I can't say we're completely empty-handed. There are plenty of things I learned this week," Adam spoke more to himself than to Nissel.

"What? He just whines about the newspaper every day! Did he tell you something yesterday?" Nissel asked.

Adam shook his head. "No. He hasn't told me anything life changing, but I have a better idea of what he doesn't know, and that will limit the field greatly when I start trying to figure out whom or what he is."

Nissel snorted. "What amuses you, Healer Nissel? Care to enlighten me?" Adam snapped.

Nissel chewed into his lower lip, and his eyes darted around to avoid looking at Adam. "I-I . . . you don't think it's actually not _him _do you? I mean . . ."

"It's crazy? Is that what you mean? We have no case to use as a precedent, and we have precious little information to work with. In addition, I happen to be the current expert on what we're dealing with," Adam admonished his young apprentice. "What I am coming to believe, though, is it's not him. We have someone else in that room. However, whoever we have knows Susan Bones, or is at least concerned about her well being, and I suspect he may begin to talk about other people."

"Why don't we just use the Veritaserum?" Nissel asked. "He would have to tell us everything."

"I would prefer to observe him before resorting to Veritaserum. You know how I feel about it. In emergencies, it can be essential, but we have time to deal with this. In addition, there is the problem that even the Aurors could not crack his mind using Legilimency." Adam stared over at the other curtain separating him from his patient. _'I can handle this if the Ministry will give me the time I need to figure this out. Legilimency didn't work . . . I hope I can use that little bit of information to convince them that, somehow, he is being protected from our prying, which could be true, as irksome as that might prove to me later.' _

"Tell me when the Aurors arrive." Adam snapped out of his revelry and pulled open the curtain. He passed through another empty room before coming upon the last room. Normally, when he drew the curtain, his patient woke, but because he came several hours earlier, the man remained asleep when Adam entered.

The Healer stared down at his sleeping charge, sweating beneath the single sheet. _'Another nightmare . . . I can't say that surprises me. I wonder how long it will take to get him to talk about those. Hopefully, those nightmares will crack him soon.' _

The man tossed from one side to the other. _'Still very pale . . . I'm not surprised. He has started to put on a little weight, but he probably is still very weak. _At that moment, the man's eyes opened, but he didn't notice Adam as he took a deep breath and ran his hands over his face.

"Another nightmare, I see," Adam remarked in a soft voice.

The man jumped as if Adam shouted at him. "What . . . what are you doing here? Even I can tell how early it is."

"The Ministry is coming today. I have to document your health, physical condition, and examine you for any abnormalities."

The man chuckled. "Abnormalities? Is that a joke? I'm a walking abnormality."

_'Hmmm, he has a sense of humour this morning. He'll need that today.' _Adam didn't reply, though, but stepped partially inside the magical bubble. _'I hope he never figures out how the Aperio Charm works. I wasn't lying when I said it was the reverse of the Fidelius Charm. It shows you everything – in one place – but the only catch is that there has to be one person inside the charm at all times, and that person is a secret giver. It's astounding how well he's done under that Charm. Most people start blabbing fairly early in the process. He just doesn't realize if I enter the charm field completely, he could leave before I do.' _

"I'm sorry to say we're going to have to deprive you of breakfast for a while," Venturini said as he motioned his patient to stand up. The non-verbal request was met with a questioning stare.

"I'm not really worried about food," the man replied. _'Not today. We're not going to play this little war of attrition right now. You're getting examined.' _Venturini reached down and flung the sheet off his patient before he grabbed his forearm. For a moment, the man pulled away, but Venturini's firm grip held him in place.

Nissel entered the room and stepped into the bubble. Venturini nodded towards the other Healer as he partially pulled his reluctant patient to his feet. Then, instead of struggling against Adam's tugging, the man seemed to space out and follow without any type of resistance. _'He seems a little stubborn sometimes, but then he just closes down and is perfectly docile. A bit passive aggressive I think.' _

The two walked together through the ward until they reached the bathing room, but instead of taking his patient inside, Adam continued to walk his charge down the hallway. As Adam escorted him to a little door, he watched the man twist his head to stare at his surroundings. _'Yes, enjoy your field trip. The only other trip you might get to take will be from here to Azkaban.' _

Adam pulled open the door with the hand that held his wand. He ushered the man into a windowless room no bigger than a standard office cubicle. With a flick of his wand, Adam lit a blue ball hanging from the ceiling. When Adam shut the door, the blue, fluorescent orb bathed both men in a wane light that made them appear like phantoms shrouded in a mist. Adam noticed the shiver that passed through the man's body.

"Undress."

_'This part doesn't irritate him. He just complies,' _Adam thought as his patient stripped down without even a blush or a surly gaze. Adam went over to one of the cupboards on the wall and pulled out a clip board with a quill lying on top of it. With a flick of his wand, the quill stood up and began to scratch across the paper.

"Patient, name unknown. Age estimated in mid thirties. Gender, male." Adam dictated as he walked over and began to tap his wand across his patient's back. "Patient is pale, underweight . . . " Adam paused to deliver a tap that made his patient flinch.

" . . . and bruises fairly easily. Possibly from weakened health."

Adam prodded at various joints and bones as he circled around his patient like a vulture. "Skeletal structure seems normal. Muscles are weak. Atrophied from lack of use." At this point, Adam faced his patient and pointed a small beam of light at his eyes. "Pupils, normal. Vision seems adequate and unimpaired."

_'Now, let me look at those scars,' _Adam thought as he tapped the patient's mouth. "Open." The man did so without hesitation, and Adam shone the light around inside of his mouth. "Many scars covering the lips, tongue, and other areas of the mouth typical of the patient's condition."

Adam lowered his wand. "You can get dressed." Adam waited until the patient was dressed before he asked, "Do you have any mundane medical conditions that are common among all humans?"

"I have no idea," the man replied with a shrug.

"Hmmm, well, have you had any previous magical ailments? Dragon pox, for example."

The man sighed. "I couldn't tell you. All I can say is that I woke up in a room full of corpses."

_'As I thought, he has no idea of this body's current medical status. Either he's an excellent actor, or he really has no idea what this body has lived through. We'll see about that one.' _Adam tapped the quill so that it fell limply against the clip board, which he stowed under one arm and tucked against his body. "I'm going to retrieve the Ministry personnel who you are, no doubt, eager to see again."

The man raised his eyebrows and stared at the ceiling. "Tell them to stay for tea."

"I just might," Adam replied as he opened the door and locked it behind him. Adam strode towards the stairs, but he didn't go far when Healer Barnes swung open the double doors and arrived on the fourth floor.

"You got lucky today, Adam. Thackery and Robards are busy seeing a case that got moved up."

Adam followed Healer Barnes through the double doors that marked the entrance to the Sanguine-Levette Ward. As soon as they passed those doors, Healer Barnes proceeded to her own little office, which was much like the room where Adam had detained his patient.

After shutting the door, Barnes flicked on an orb that, instead of casting a ghostly pall over the room, illuminated the little space with natural light that managed not to be either harsh or terrifying. Instead, it gave the effect that the room might be sitting outside in a meadow, and only the smell of potions and the cold, tiled floor betrayed the homely space.

"What case are they seeing?" Adam inquired as Barnes sat down in a chair. Adam took a seat opposite her in one of the plush, spearmint armchairs in which patients and their family members usually sat.

Barnes pulled out some files and began flipping through pages of parchment. "They're finally getting around to seeing some more of the Imperius Curse cases. I can hardly believe they're going to actually try every single person involved, whether they escaped from Azkaban or not."

"It almost looks like justice," Adam quipped. Barnes gave him a sideways stare. "But then again, maybe I'm just bitter."

"Personally, I think almost half the people in the Ministry knowingly broke the law during You-Know-Who's reign. If you break the law, you go to prison." Barnes finished her statement, and was no longer paying attention to her papers.

_'If you don't break the law, sometimes you still go to prison.' _A wry smile crossed Adam's face. Adam leaned forward in his chair. "I suppose you think I should have gone to Azkaban?"

Barnes sighed, adverting her gaze from the other Healer. "Yes, I do. Fleeing the country because you _damned well knew _what would happen was a spineless move."

_'Ah, she's in an excellent mood today. I suppose that reaction shouldn't surprise me, considering she was jailed for being Muggle born.' _Adam propped his right leg on top of his other knee as he leaned back in the chair and waited until the crinkles around Barnes's face softened. Barnes turned back to Adam and said, "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to make the comparison – "

"Between me and the Death Eaters? No, you certainly didn't, but you wouldn't have been the first person who has done so since I've returned." Adam sighed. "I suppose I was a bit lucky to get all of my charges dropped."

Barnes let out a tiny snort. "A bit? Really, Adam, if you hadn't been one of a dozen – well, now probably less – experts in your particular field – "

"—it never would have happened. It seems knowing a little too much about gruesome deaths and permanent, horrible curses finally helped me professionally instead of drawing criticism as a Dark Wizard." Adam smirked as he watched Barnes shake her head, not a trace of a smile on her face.

Barnes reached up and pulled a few more strands of greying hair into the bun on the top of her head. "They also killed a lot of the people that knew how to clean up messes like those the Dementors made."

"I can't argue with that. They killed them, or they were on their side."

Silence descended between the two Healers after Adam spoke. _'With so many people dead, who is left to repair the mess? What a good question. Shacklebolt stepped into start to fix the Ministry, but most of the people who survived are young, untrained . . . '_ Adam thought as he fixed his gaze at a random spot on one of the walls. Barnes shuffling through her files brought him out of his trance.

"I suppose I should go tell my patient the good news that he may have at least one more day of reprieve," Adam said as he stood up. He cast a sideways glance down at Barnes, who stiffened slightly when he mentioned his patient. "I suppose you agree with Thackery? Just throw everyone into prison? That strategy worked well in the past."

Barnes looked up at Adam. "Eloise and I have known each other a long time, and she is providing a needed counter balance to the cries for everyone to just be . . . set free or – or to do away with life sentences. No life sentences! Can you imagine? After _this _war?"

Adam stuffed his hands into his pockets. "I can't say I completely agree, but it's a backlash against the decades of farcical trials, no representation, and throwing people in prison without any trial at all. There's been evidence they threw more than one innocent person in Azkaban because everyone panicked."

"Well . . . some of them bloody deserved it," Barnes spat as she stared down at her papers. _'And that's my cue to go.' _

"Have a nice day. Thanks for passing along the information," Adam said as he left the room. As he passed into the main hallway, Adam strode beneath the yellow lights that glared off the tiled floor. House elves popped onto the floor to deliver trays to the Healers that were taking them to feed their patients. Adam turned back to his office and gave the door a tap.

Entering the room, he saw his patient sitting on the one, hard backed wooden chair. In the wane, blue light, the man's face appeared even more sunken, and the purple circles under his eyes seemed larger and more pronounced. "Good news for you," Adam said, and the man took his gaze off the floor to look up at Adam. "The Ministry is busy today, so they're putting you on hold for at least one more day. If you get lucky, it might be several more days before they pay a visit."

The man nodded and stood up. Adam waited for a response, but when one didn't come, he motioned the man forward and raised his wand to speed up the process. Once at the door, Adam again grabbed the man, this time by his shoulder, and led him back to his bed. When they both stepped inside the bubble, Nissel stepped outside of it.

"Nissel, go get the breakfast," Adam ordered as he stepped outside of the bubble only after the man crawled back into his bed. Nissel eagerly obeyed, and Adam turned to follow the other Healer.

"Can I ask you something? I've been wondering about it for a while," the man asked.

_'Well, what's this? Maybe it is my lucky day after all.' _Adam turned on his heels and drew the curtain closed behind him. He walked over and stood at the foot of the man's bed, clasped his hands together, and simply waited.

Finally, after a long, awkward pause where both men simply stared at each other, the patient said, "You mentioned something earlier, during the examination, about the scars around my mouth." The man paused and ran his fingers over his lips. "You said they were 'typical of my condition?' What does that mean?"

_'Ah, this is my lucky day. He really does have no idea . . . '_

Adam looked down at the foot of the bed, purposefully avoiding eye contact, when he began to speak. "You made a very keen observation during the examination. Those scars are, indeed, the primary trademark of a certain condition. It's not really a 'condition,' I would say, as an _event _. They might be properly described as a symptom of a particular happening."

Adam paused and looked up at the man, who simply nodded for Adam to continue speaking. "You see, most people don't know about these scars because the victims of this particular event either die are kept well hidden. I think you have experienced where the living victims are kept, am I correct?"

"Yes," the man replied after a moment's hesitation. "Please answer my question."

A flat, wry grin came over Adam's face. _'I guess I can stop dragging this out. That's a bit of a shame, though, but his reaction will be worth it.' _

"You see, those scars are a by-product of the Dementor's Kiss. The Dementor's touch is so foul it leaves these scars all over the mouth area when it performs the Kiss."

Adam kept his eyes trained on his patient, whose jaw fell open so he looked like a gaping fish. The man blinked several times, as if he really did not understand what he just heard. _'He really had no idea. Well, I'm positive I have no idea who I have in that bed. I would assume he would remember the last moments of his life being descended upon by a Dementor, but this is clearly a surprise. A very nasty one, at that. _

"A-a . . . what? Are you . . ."

"I am most certainly not joking. I am an expert on the Dementor's Kiss," Adam replied. "I actually have helped to contain the Dementors and control their breeding efforts. You see when – "

"That's enough," the man choked out the command.

"You wanted to know. It was a bit of a surprise, wasn't it?"

The man's gaze fell down to his hands. "Please leave," was all he asked. Adam waited around to see if he would say anything else, but he only repeated, "Please leave."

_'I guess I'm done for today. He seems to have had his fill of curiosity for a while. Good, it'll give me time to begin to compile a file. The one person I can rule as not being my patient is the man who appears to be right in front of me.' _

A/N: Okay, this is the first chapter where I can have a REAL author's note. *confetti* I've been a bit quiet because this plot point needed to come up before I could say anything about this fic. First, I hope you're enjoying it. If you aren't, or if you are, shoot me a note. Also, what do you think of Adam? I'm trying to get him right, and this prolonged bit from his POV might help you grasp more of his character. I know, it's a bit crazy AU, but that's just what I do. Anyway, I've always had a theory about Dementors, and that's what kind of helped kick-start this fic. I've always thought that the "fate worse than death" part meant the soul was sucked out, but the body didn't *actually* die. I thought that the body of the victim was kind of, more or less, what we term 'brain dead.' I thought that the Dementors might also breed by administering the Dementor's Kiss, but I'll get to that tid-bit later.


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